


Alive At What Cost?

by KingShadows1001



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, POV Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:20:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29080758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingShadows1001/pseuds/KingShadows1001
Summary: "The feeling of being revived was unexplainable. The deafening silence of a temporary death quickly turned into an onslaught of sounds, adrenaline pumping through the warriors newly repaired veins as the voices told him to run."-----Technoblade has a nightmare of his execution and seeks out his closest friend and father.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 107





	Alive At What Cost?

Nightmares weren’t uncommon for Technoblade. He’s seen his fair share of atrocious acts and gruesome scenes that would leave anybody shaken up. He was a person after all. However this nightmare felt.. different. It wasn't about what he’d seen, but rather what he felt.

 **Execution day.** A majority of it had been forgotten, but the single thing stood out amongst the blurred together memories. The feeling of death. The fleeting moment when everything hurts then you feel nothing at all. Techno had been prepared of course, holding the totem close to his body and watching the others carefully through the bars so they didn’t see what he was hiding. Then came the anvil. He knew he would survive. That didn’t make it any less terrifying. The voices in his head were unrelenting and he could hear them plain as day as the event played back in his mind. He could feel the crack and crunch of his bones as they crumbled under the weight of the metal. He could feel as his body was pieced back together by magic.

That was the feeling that haunted him. That split second, before the magic of the totem activated and brought him back from death, where everything felt cold and still. The feeling of being revived was unexplainable. The deafening silence of a temporary death quickly turned into an onslaught of sounds, adrenaline pumping through the warriors newly repaired veins as the voices told him to run.

The voices grew louder and louder, reverberating in his skull in response to the memory. As Techno jolted awake and sat up, they did not subside. Calming his emotions was the only way the voices would stop. The chants, the reminders, the guilt, it all played back in his head in a never ending loop. He gripped at his hair and tugged, resisting the urge to scream in an attempt to drown the voices out. Techno heaved and gripped at his shirt, getting up from the bed. His breathing was shaky, his legs even more so as he slowly walked through his shared home. Philza’s room felt further away than it really was in these moments, but Techno knew he needed to get there. The old soldier had cared for and raised Techno as a son despite being an unruly piglin hybrid, he trusted him with his life. 

There was no hesitation as techno stepped into the bedroom, gripping the door frame to keep himself balanced. _“Phil..?”_ He called, his strained voice drowned out by the countless others in his ears. Movement, only a slight flick of a dark wing. After a pause he called again, _“Dad..?”_

Philza then stirred in his bed, rolling over and sitting up as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Techno?” he questioned, looking up to meet the dull red eyes staring at him. The tears in the corners of his eyes and the rigidness of his stance said it all. It reminded him of when the hybrid was little, afraid of the creatures that lay just beyond the edge of the dark forest. “Are you alright?” Philza asked, moving over slightly. Techno sat himself down on the edge of the bed and shakily breathed out, holding his head in his hands. “The execution, Phil.. it.. I-“ He gets cut off as the voices rise in volume again, his hands quickly rushing to cover his ears, although that ultimately did nothing. They want blood. They want _revenge._ They want nothing but to kill those who’ve wronged him. He lets out a strained sort of sob and Philza’s wings surround them both, pulling Techno’s large figure a little closer the best he could. 

The touch temporarily breaks him out of the trance. He looks up at Philza and his eyes are full of fear and anger. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d been crying. Phil only looked at him with sympathy, a burning anger of his own hiding behind the blue of his eyes. Techno tried to focus on the touch rather than the repeating words in his mind, gently taking a large feather between his fingers. He wouldn’t pull it, but simply feeling the texture was an old habit that soothed him. His father always helped, always knew what he needed, what he wanted. After a while, the voices began to dip in volume, the sounds of the world around him becoming more pronounced. He could hear Philza muttering to him, “I’ve got you..you’re here.. you’re alive.” 

Techno sighed and leaned more into his father’s arms, careful not to put too much of his weight. He was taller and bulkier than Philza by a reasonable amount yet still felt most comfort right here. Driven by the will of a blood god he had seen horrors one could only imagine, and now he had experienced death for himself. He still had his chances, no lives really taken that day, and yet that was the closest he ever wanted to get. Eventually they separated from the hold, Philza patting Techno’s back one more time before lowering his hands, wings folding back into place. “You’re welcome to stay y’know, if you’re..if it might happen again.” Phil said with a small yet genuine smile before laying back down on his side, stretching his wings out wide before relaxing them. Techno watched him with a smile of his own, then turned to face the floor. He hadn’t spent the night in his fathers room since he was very little, before he knew how to fight even, was he really going to resort to _this?!_ He sighed quietly to himself, running his fingers through his hair tentatively. _I guess...._

The next morning, Philza found him huddled right by his side, snoring away without a care in the world.


End file.
